He met me in my pew.

Salvation. Repentance. Baptism. Justification. These were all words that made little to no sense to me about a year ago.

If we’re being honest, they were words that intimidated me. Those ritualistic expectations that you conjure up when you think of church? These words gave me the same feelings when I heard them.

My walk with God came on like a flood. If you don’t know me, or if you didn’t know me a few years ago, you wouldn’t find me in church. Now don’t get it twisted, I also wasn’t some crazy hellbent sinner either. I just thought that “I knew my relationship with God.” and “The majority of the people in church are the biggest sinners.”

Duh, Captain obvious. Why do you think they’re there?

Ugh, I was so naive. The fact that my past self thought that was an acceptable excuse makes me cringe. Can you say pride? That’s a sin by the way. But thats not the point.

My husband was the one asking me to go to church. In fact, he grew up in the church. His grandfather was a pastor his entire upbringing. You can’t tell some days, kidding, but he had the exposure that I didn’t. But unfortunately he always got the same answer. Well, a slew of excuses more like it, which resulted in a “No.” or a “Not today.” And kids? Best excuse of them all.

Don’t act like you haven’t used them to your advantage a time or two.

But back to the point. You’d guess that it came as a surprise when my husband left to go offshore and came back to a wife not really leaving any options on the table. We HAD to go to church.

I started bringing the kids because I wasn’t pouring into them in any way that would encourage their relationships with God. He started to convict me, and looking back now I guess that was his first plan of action to reach me. So, we went, and it was great. But when I tell you God met me in my pew one day, he showed up.

My pastor was giving a service on things that might be holding you back from your relationship with God. I laughed. He made things relatable. He went through the first topic, then the second. But when I tell you that nothing prepared me for the wave of emotions, I’d go through on his last topic, I mean NOTHING.

He said, “Prepare yourself, I might step on some toes. The last thing holding you back from full-filling your fullest potential in your relationship with God is forgiveness.”

Now I find myself to be extremely forgiving. I’ve never been one to hold a grudge and I’m quick to let things go. Which may have been how I ended up in the predicament that led to this situation, because I also wasn’t very good at defending myself. And boundaries? What’s that? A topic for another day is what that is.

Anyways, my response didn’t come for me. It came FROM me, but not FOR me. It was over a situation that I was going through with my family. Funny part was, I had nothing to do with these issues, it was between two other parties. I was just stuck in the middle. I wanted this situation mended badly because the both of them meant the world to me. It needed to be reconciled.

Why were the flood gates opened and I proceeded to cry like I’d just lost my dog? I don’t know, but I sobbed. Did I forget to mention that I was also alone for this service? Third row pew and that baby was empty. Just me, my emotions, and a little embarrassment. My pastor continued to preach about living a sinful life and I, balling at this point, was nervous that he may have thought that I was guilty of some serious business as he glanced and seemed to preach into my soul a time or two.

Nope. Just living in that last topic because God himself knows I can no longer remember anything from that service outside of my sobbing.

When service ended, we had some prayer partners come to the front to offer prayer over anyone needing it. Prior to my walk with God, I was not only a heavy people pleaser, but a heck of an introvert. So walking up to someone and allowing myself to be vulnerable with them was huge. So I went. And I was intercepted. Twice y’all. I felt like after that second interception that maybe it wasn’t meant to be.

And then I felt a hand on my shoulder and was turned around by a pastor from one of our neighboring locations asking if I needed prayer.

Y’all, I don’t know what hyperventilation is, but I’m pretty sure that was what happened as this man asked for my name and what it was that I was needing prayer for.

I let it all out. The entire situation, begging for God to mend it all. And looking back now, I needed to be placed with him and not a regular prayer partner. When I say he listened and prayed so intentionally, reciting every word and name that he deciphered through tears, he prayed.

And you want to know something crazy? I left feeling ridden with anxiety. I’m assuming that was because I’d just confessed some heavy personal issues to a man I’d never met and ugly cried while doing it. But it’s the day that I wholeheartedly believe God met me.

I went home battling some serious emotions, but that day, I released it all to him. Not only my self-acquired issues, because we all have them, but the issues much greater than me. Issues that only God could resolve, and it’s a day I’ll never forget.

You see, what I’ve learned is, salvation doesn’t come simply because you want it. God doesn’t decide to show up when you decide the relationship is now worth pursuing. The truth is, we never know when God is going to show up. I surely didn’t think it was going to be during a situation regarding someone else’s conflict. But I guess that’s the lesson. It’s not during the times when we submit ourselves, to him, but in submitting it all to him. Submission in not only our small wants and desires, but submission in the things completely out of our control. Trusting him not only with the little things, but the heavy things too.

That day ignited my relationship with God. Sundays, a day that I once felt obligated to attend, became a craving. My most anticipated day of the week. It was literally, and you can call me crazy all you want, like my eyes were opened to a parallel universe. Scripture became clear to me. A fire burned so heavily, and I was in a constant state of rush. I could not get enough.

My husband, who remember was once asking me to go to church, was now asking to change the topic of discussion because it was all I wanted to talk about. And I genuinely can’t explain it any other way than complete submission. Walking with God is not something we should do simply because it’s “what we’re supposed to do”.

Walking with God is an active relationship that takes constant work. I’ve walked for about a year now and you won’t always stay on fire atop a mountain. You’ll enter valleys. But there is hope in trusting and listening to God’s word. Seeking, and constantly submitting to him.

You never know when he’s going to meet you, but boy when he does.